“Some things are worth the effort.”
Her cheeks flush, and she takes a sip of her iced tea to give herself some cover, but not before I see the hint of a smile touching her lips. She’s always been shit at taking compliments – that’s something I remember keenly about her – but I can see she still likes them.
The conversation over dinner is light and friendly, if a bit strained, with everything kept on the surface. It’s the sort of awkward two people who are more acquaintance and less friend would have. Which I suppose was to be expected. It’s not what I want – I want to get to know this woman – but I should have expected it.
“So, were you able to speak to the people at Compass?” she asks.
I nod. “We’re talking, yeah.”
“Do they seem open to the idea of giving the residents the extra time?”
“It’s hard to say just yet,” I reply. “But they didn’t automatically oppose it, so there’s that. I’ll make sure to tell you as soon as I hear anything.”
She purses her lips, but nods, obviously hoping I’d have something more substantive to offer her.
“So what is it you do, Sawyer?” she probes. “You were pretty vague about it the other night.”
I give her a smile. I know I’m going to have to answer that question eventually. It’s going to come out – really, all she’d have to do is Google my name. The fact that she doesn’t know means she hasn’t looked it up – which is something I’m somewhat relieved about, and yet disappointed that she wasn’t even interested enough to Google me. But for now, it plays into my hands, so I’ll keep tap dancing around it as long as I can.
“I wear a lot of different hats,” I tell her. It’s not technically a lie. “Like I told you the other night, I like to have multiple revenue streams, so my resume is pretty – diverse.”
“Well, what might some of the things on your resume be?” she presses.
“Why are you so interested in what I do?” I chuckle softly. “I promise you it’s not all that interesting.”
“Why are you being so evasive?”
rub my jaw, unable to keep the grin off my face. She is a determined woman, and when she smells blood in the water, she goes on the attack. Such a lawyer.
I’m not ready to give up my secret yet, though. I know that if I do, it’ll immediately fuck things up between us, and the damage would be irreparable – and I’d like to at least give myself a fighting chance. But at the same time, I don’t want to outright lie to her.
“I don’t mean to be evasive. I just don’t like talking about work when I’m out with a beautiful woman, and I’m trying to get to know her,” I respond. “Honestly, I think what I do for a living is the least interesting thing about me.”
She looks away as her cheeks color, and I know I’ve won this round. The best way to knock Berlin off track is to pay her a compliment. She takes a drink of her tea and falls silent again.
“Can I ask you a question now?” I lean forward, taking the offensive this time.
Berlin looks up at me. “Uh, sure.”
“Why’d you give me a bum phone number?”
Berlin shifts in her seat, looking distinctly uncomfortable. She looks as if she’s been dreading the possibility of having this conversation the entire evening. She looks down at the table before raising her eyes to me again, offering me a weak, watered-down smile.
“To be perfectly honest, I don’t know why I did it,” she tells me. “I just – it’s not like we were really friends or anything. It was just kind of weird to not only see you out of the blue like that after so many years – but for you to then ask for my number.”
“Not making more of an effort to be your friend is a regret of mine, believe it or not.”
She arches her eyebrow at me. “I know what you were after back then, Sawyer,” she shoots back. “And I wasn’t into that.”
“I knew you weren’t into it early on. You were pretty clear about that,” I chuckle. “And yet, I persisted. Why do you think that is?”
A sly grin touches her lips. “Because you’re a spoiled trust fund kid who isn’t used to not getting what he wants, and doesn’t like to hear the word ‘no’?”
She says it like it’s a joke, but I can hear the iron core of truth in her words. And yet, rather than be offended, I find it hilarious and laugh out loud. Berlin looks at me curiously, a small smile playing upon her lips, as if she’s unsure whether to laugh along with me or not. Eventually, she chuckles quietly.
“Well, that was certainly a very blunt, direct assessment of my character,” I say.
“Sorry,” she responds, looking abashed. “I didn’t mean to sound so rude or judgmental.”
I wave her off. “It’s fair. I mean, you hit the nail on the head. I know I was pretty terrible back then,” I offer. “But I was also a different man back then. I’m not the same man today, Berlin.”
She says nothing, but I hold her gaze for a long moment as if I can prove that I’m not the same man anymore with nothing more than my eyes. She returns my gaze, but it’s wary. She looks at me the way somebody might look at a snake that’s coiled and ready to strike. It’s clear Berlin doesn’t trust me and still thinks the worst of me, which means I need to do something to turn that perception around. I just don’t know what that something might be at the moment.
“So what was this important thing you wanted to talk to me about?” she asks gingerly, obviously trying to divert the conversation.
I quickly take a drink
